though each year left her more threadbare and rusty in her black dresses, always found, somehow, the money to buy new clothes and ribbons for the child. And, as her house decayed and her own clothes grew more shabby, she became more vain and overbearing in her relations with her neighbours. She began to invent achievements and honours for her father, but at first with such cunning, such casual references, and such diffident parryings of curiosity that they were accepted by all but the most wary. Then, as though emboldened by success, she enlarged the scope of her inventions and began to push back into an ever and ever more magnificent and fan- tastic history. Miss Buraham hated all the young men, whose sharp eyes, even as she talked, always seemed to fix upon a cracked pane or threadbare patch of carpet or, even, upon her red, chapped hands. She hated them and was contemptuous of them, but she hated Percy Munn most of all With her he was more polite and attentive than any of the others were, but he was also the most silent and watchful; and, from the very first, she seemed to know that he was the one most to be feared, that he was the one who would take May from her. He married May after a courtship of two years. He could have married her earlier, but he wanted to establish his prac- tice and to have a little money ahead. Almost as soon as he had returned from the honeymoon in Louisville, he sent men over to put a new roof on Miss Burnham's house, and to paint it He ordered them simply to go and begin work and to say, if questioned by her, that the matter had been entirely arranged. But while the men worked, she seemed oblivious to them; and she never mentioned the matter to Mr. Munn or, as far as he knew, to May. The roof and paint might, for all she showed, have come like a natural event, a rainstorm or the change of seasons. "It's sweet of you, Perse," May said, "to be doing all that for Aunt Lucy." "I hate to see property going to pieces," he answered* ** And anyway, the place'Jl be yours some day, I reckon,"